All the Time In the World
by Moonprincess92
Summary: People are brought together and lives are shattered during the first 24 hours after the war. :Very long oneshot RHr HG and others postDH:
1. Dawn to Early Afternoon

**DISCLAIMER: **I don't own Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, or time.

* * *

><p>All the Time in the World.<p>

People are brought together and lives are shattered during the first 24 hours after the war. :Very long oneshot RHr HG and others postDH:

Complete list of ships: Ron/Hermione, Harry/Ginny, Bill/Fleur and slight Neville/Luna.

* * *

><p>PART ONE: Dawn to Early Afternoon<p>

_dawn _

"You reckon he's ok?"

Ron glanced down at Hermione with an incredulous look. Seriously, for the smartest girl he thought he'd ever met, he couldn't quite believe that she had even asked that question.

"_Seriously_?" he said.

Hermione looked up at him. "Well, all right, never mind," she said, hastily. "I suppose none of us are ok."

She was staring out over the Great Hall, though Ron still had his eyes firmly glued to his extremely scuffed, torn and dirty shoes. Hundreds of people were cheering, screaming, crying as they all tried to hug Harry at once, but Ron didn't see how that could quite cover up the fact that the entire castle was in _ruins_. There was a huge hole in one of the walls of the hall, allowing Grawp to stick his head through with a toothy grin and Ron was pretty sure that there were more areas stained red with blood than there was clean grey.

The two of them had managed to get their own hugs in with Harry – first ones to reach him, in fact – but now they were just faces, pushed to the back of the crowd since they'd had their turn. The fact that they had been best friends for almost seven years apparently didn't occur to anyone. It was simply crazy, manic almost, to think that the impossible had been done and that Harry had _done it_ –

But those were probably thoughts best left for some other time. Ron was kinda ok with being shoved to the side for now. Besides, he had Hermione with him.

"C'mon," he heard her murmur gently, though how over the screaming, he had no idea. He felt a sudden thrill when she curled her hand in his, tugging; he let himself get pulled along until together, they both collapsed onto one of the house table benches. He didn't even know which house it was from. He supposed it hardly mattered now, right?

"… so did that actually just happen?" she asked eventually, turning to face him suddenly and causing him to blink and pretend he _totally_ hadn't been staring at her.

"What, the whole wand-exchanging-You-Know-Who dying thing? Or the whole bloody day we've had?" he asked.

Hermione let out a sound which may have even been a snigger. "All of it, I guess," she said. "Seriously, did we honestly just go through all that? Because even though I've got too many bruises to count, I think I've sprained my ankle and I'm so tired that I think I could pass out … I still feel like _laughing_."

Ron couldn't help it; he grinned at the look on her face. "Yeah," he said. "Yeah, we did do all that. And I know it sounds crazy, but I _think_ it might all be over …"

Hermione actually smiled – a proper smile that he didn't think he'd really seen since before Dumbledore died – and before he knew it, both of them were laughing together, laughing so hard that tears came to his eyes and he hung onto her sleeve to keep himself upright, Hermione gasping for breath. Eventually, she flung herself forwards and threw her arms around him tightly, still giggling into his chest.

"We made it," she practically whispered since her voice had gone raspy from her hysterics. "Ron … I can't even begin to describe how happy I am that you're alive."

_Blimey_ – he had to blink back tears as he pressed his face into her hair.

"Yeah," he muttered. "I know."

* * *

><p><em>early morning<em>

"Have you heard?" Neville Longbottom's excited call chimed in over all the other voices in the Great Hall. Professor McGonagall turned and saw what once was her young student, still with that boyish grin … only now, he was covered in blood, limping slightly and still carrying the Sword of Gryffindor. "There's news coming in from all over the country!"

"Anything worth reporting?" the Professor asked, holding herself up as strongly as she could with what could only be a broken rib or two.

"Tonnes of people have apparently come out of trances," Neville continued, enthusiastically. "Imperius curse, I'll bet you! And they've made Kingsley Acting Minister until they can find someone willing to take the job."

"Well, good luck to them," Professor McGonagall said. "That Ministry is going to have one hell of a job fixing our world."

Neville blinked slightly at her informal tone and Professor McGonagall almost rolled her eyes. It did always amuse her when she could surprise her students, especially when they least expected it.

"Even _I_ know when a job is too big, Mr Longbottom," she said.

Neville grinned. "Right, Professor. So what do we do now?"

"I suppose the only thing we can do – start cleaning."

"Merlin. It'll be just like detention," Neville commented.

"Yes, quite," Professor McGonagall agreed. "Only on a much larger and more gruesome scale. Now, as for that sword–" She cut herself off as she had reached out for said sword; however, she'd ended up gasping in pain when her side suddenly felt like it would split in two.

"Oh my god, Professor! You're hurt!" Neville hurried forward to help her remain upright. "Go see Madam Pomfrey and don't worry, you just tell me what needs doing and I'll do it!"

"Oh, there are more injuries Madam Pomfrey is tending to that are far worse than mine," Professor McGonagall huffed and they both glanced over to see the truth, since Madam Pomfrey certainly hadn't stopped to cheer and celebrate once the battle had been won. In fact, she was currently bent over a poor student, who appeared to have lost too much blood. She was frantically trying to save the student, yelling at the little second-year who was assisting her.

"Let me at least help you sit down," Neville insisted, frowning and she let him lead her over to one of the house benches. "Seriously, Professor. Just tell me whatever needs doing. I can handle it."

Professor McGonagall peered up at her student. Not once over seven years had she _quite_ believed that Neville Longbottom would ever make a decent wizard. It was something that she was starting to abhor about herself. Over the past few months, she'd been proved utterly wrong time and time again until now, when not a nervous little boy, but a confident young man, stood in front of her with that determined expression.

"I know you can, Neville," she said, firmly. "I know you can do anything."

Neville grinned. The use of his first name hadn't gone unnoticed. "Thanks, Professor."

* * *

><p><em>early morning <em>

Harry was pretty sure that he had been congratulated by every single person in the bloody castle. Not that he wasn't _grateful_, but all he wanted in the world right now was a sandwich, a good ten hours sleep and perhaps a hug from Ginny (not necessarily in that order).

He'd spotted Ron and Hermione sitting together on one of the house benches, but considering all that had happened between them the last 24 hours, he wasn't so sure that he wanted to interrupt them. They were sort of awkwardly too close, with Hermione's curled up legs overlapping his and shoulders pressed together. Harry leaned against another one of the tables, just watching them for a moment with a slight smile. Despite the tentative way that they seemed to speak, hands sort-of-but-not-quite touching and tear stains creating marks down their gritty faces, Harry was fairly certain that they'd never looked happier.

He was just so _tired_. After everything that had happened, all he wanted was to go to bed and forget. Perhaps dream about other things. Dream about Ginny. And maybe treacle tart. His body was just completely wiped and so _exhausted_, he felt like he could fall asleep standing up, and it didn't help that every five seconds, another person would come and thank him or congratulate him.

If he was being perfectly honest with himself, he'd admit that the only reason he was willing to sleep (because he was pretty sure that the nightmares would be too much to handle) was because anything he saw when he closed his eyes had to be better than what he saw when they were currently open.

Bodies were still strewn everywhere throughout the Great Hall, people crying over them, begging siblings, friends and enemies to wake up. Harry was sure he'd never used the term 'heart-breaking' before in his life, but that seem to be the only phrase that fit. However, every now and then, he'd see someone grin, someone call out to their friend, hug in celebration because _yes, Voldemort was actually dead! _And _everyone_ had to say thank you to Harry Potter.

He'd seen enough death for one day. He'd seen enough smiles. He just wanted to _forget_.

"Harry Potter?"

"Oh, for Merlin's sake!" Harry found himself yelling, turning to face whoever the hell it was wanting his attention this time. However, he found himself suddenly yelling at a little girl who could have only been a first-year. "Oh … I'm sorry. Yeah?"

"I …" The girl shuffled her feet, blond pigtails in disarray as she nursed what was clearly a broken arm. "I just wanted to say thanks. For y'know, saving the world."

Harry was silent for a long moment before saying, "You're welcome. What's your name?"

"Gracie," she said. "Gracie Lyall."

Harry smiled sadly at her. "Gracie Lyall, I'm glad you survived. Are you by yourself?"

Gracie's eyes suddenly filled with tears. "My big sister was fighting, so I snuck back to help her," she said. "B-but s-she died and I don't know where sh-she is … none of my friends c-came back with m-me except for my friend L-Liam, but I dunno where to f-find him, he m-might be d-dead, too …"

Harry had barely watched her standing there crying in front of him for maybe two seconds before he was suddenly bending down to her level. He raised a hand and gently wiped her tears away. "I'm so sorry to hear about your sister," he said, honestly. "I'll help you find your friend, yeah?"

Gracie's eyes went wide. "_Really_?" she asked.

"Of course," Harry said, shrugging.

Sleep, a sandwich and Ginny would have to wait a few moments.

* * *

><p><em>mid-morning <em>

"Ooh, look, a Blibbering Humdinger!"

"What?" Seamus glanced around, confused as Dean and Neville exchanged looks. Luna was pointing excitedly out a window, but Neville couldn't see anything at all.

He decided to humour her and said, "Luna, I don't think my eyesight's as good as yours, I don't see it …"

"Oh, you won't," Luna said, cheerfully. "It only shows itself to true believers. They say Blibbering Humdingers get attached to those who hold the true ability to be particularly perceptive," She peered closely into Neville's eyes, making him slightly uncomfortable, if truth be told. "I think you may be able to see them one day," she said, simply.

"Luna, you really scare me sometimes."

"I've been told that," she said, smiling.

Dean and Seamus were both snorting with laughter at Luna, relaxing back on the bench they were sitting on. Both Neville and Luna had joined them on the floor in front, the Sword of Gryffindor only a few inches from Neville's hand. He didn't really want to part with it yet, despite him feeling overwhelmed by all the attention he got for it. _Really_, all he did was behead a snake …

Suddenly, Professor McGonagall came bustling up to their little group. "Have any of you seen Potter?" she asked and they all exchanged shrugs and shakes of their heads. "We've got a slight problem and I thought it prudent to warn him."

"What's going on?" Neville asked immediately, already half standing up.

Professor McGonagall gave an exasperated sigh; it was so normal, he almost thought they could have been back in Transfiguration class. "The _press_ are here," she said in a very much disgusted tone. "Journalists from every newspaper imaginable from every country you can think of. I've banned them from the grounds, but that won't stop them from hounding anyone who tries to get to Hogsmeade to Disapparate."

"As soon as we see Harry, we'll let him know," Neville said, firmly.

"Why don't you ask Ron and Hermione? They'll know–" Dean cut himself off as he had begun to gesture over to where they had all last seen the two. They were now nowhere to be found.

"I don't even _want_ to think about where those two might have gone …" Seamus muttered.

While Professor McGonagall gave him a reproachful look, Luna spoke up. "Professor, I think you might find that Harry does not want to be disturbed at the moment," she said, calmly. "I think it is best that we wait until he's ready."

Professor McGonagall nodded. "Very well," she said, before turning and leaving them. She manoeuvred her way through the emotional crowd of people that Neville wasn't sure would _ever_ calm down. There was a girl no older than fifteen, crying and hugging the lifeless body of what appeared to be her brother. A mother stormed in, apparently having heard about what happened through the papers which were just starting to flood with news, and yelling at her two children for not evacuating. There was a group of about six friends who all just stood silently, staring at what was apparently nothing, their white hands as they held onto each other being the only indicator that they were still thinking. On the other side of the hall, two girls caught sight of each other before screaming and suddenly launching themselves into each other's arms. With a pang, Neville caught sight of the body of a Ravenclaw he recognised from his year, and not much further way were two little kids, no older than eleven, crying and hugging each other desperately over a dead body, the boy clutching the girls blond pigtails.

It was so much that it was starting to become overwhelming, so he turned back to the others to find Dean and Seamus locked in a very in-depth discussion about who had managed to kill the most Death Eaters and Luna, sitting there next to him, was watching him.

He gave a little jump and felt his insides jolt. He wondered if he'd ever feel faintly normal after all this. "Luna?"

"Your face," she said, bluntly. "You don't like seeing all this."

"Kind of obvious, I think."

Luna thought for a moment. "Neville, we needed people like you," she said. "The DA never would have survived. We never would have gotten through the war if it weren't for you."

Neville felt himself blush and he stared at his hands where they rested on his knees. "It wasn't all me," he mumbled. "You and Ginny helped a lot."

"You were our leader," Luna said. "You gave us hope. Just like Harry gave us hope."

"Over half the DA still died, though."

Luna nodded, silent tears in her eyes, which he didn't quite expect. He'd always been under the impression that nothing much phased Luna. "We expected that," was all she said. "But Neville … you _saved_ us."

Neville didn't think he could answer. Luna didn't need one. She just reached out and took his hand tightly, lacing their fingers together until Neville was certain that neither of them would ever let go.

They just sat there together for a long time, listening to Dean and Seamus talk and smiling and nodding to those who came to thank Neville for being so brave. It wasn't until it was almost mid-morning, and Professor McGonagall was calling for attention so that she could address the crowd of people, when Luna moved.

"Come on," she said, shifting to her knees to stand. "The castle needs us to fix it, I think. The Blibbering Humdingers won't help us – they hate housework of any kind."

"I'm sure they do," Neville grinned and his smile grew wider as Luna leaned in and kissed a quick peck to his lips before getting up and heading off through the crowd, joining Ginny as Professor McGonagall began speaking. Neville just sat there, staring after her.

"Oh, get up, mate," Seamus said, rolling his eyes as he grabbed Neville's arm and heaved him off the ground. "Don't you _dare_ start acting like Ron and Hermione – I don't think I could stand another lot of them!"

* * *

><p><em>mid-morning <em>

Ginny didn't realise her body could survive this much without breaking down. It had become almost a game when she was younger, to not cry, since crying would only give her brothers the satisfaction that they had got to her.

Now … well. She was _Ginny Weasley_. Ginny Weasley does not cry!

She wouldn't. She refused.

She had been in her mother's arms, just staring at Fred's face, for the past hour or so. Harry had seemingly disappeared and conveniently, Ron and Hermione also. Everyone else in her family had paired off together; Bill and Fleur, who were a few feet away with their arms around each other; Charlie and Percy, who were sat side by side, not saying anything and not needing to; and now her mother and father, since he had come back from a scouting mission for the Order, placing protection charms back up around Hogwarts. George had completely disappeared, which Ginny wasn't all that surprised about.

Without her mother to hold onto, Ginny had suddenly found that _needed_ someone. And that wasn't something she would admit very often.

She ended up wandering through the Great Hall, half-heartedly searching for Harry, though knowing that he probably wasn't there. She stopped for a few moments to talk to some girls who had been in her year and she caught up with Luna just as Professor McGonagall magnified her voice and began to address the crowd,

"Everyone, if I could have a moment!" she said, her voice so commanding and determined that it was laughable that she even needed to request for a moment – she had it straight away. "Hogwarts is in dire need of assistance and we are going to need every pair of hands today. The Order of the Phoenix has put protective charms back up around the grounds so Apparition is again impossible. However, for those families and students who wish to leave may come with me very soon to my office and you will all be able to use the Floo Network to return home.

"Also, those who wish to return to Hogsmeade are to be warned that there are journalists waiting at the Front Gates. We cannot stop those who wish to speak to them, but be warned: words can be twisted and _no_ sympathy will fall to those who do not first think about their actions. The only journalist who will be allowed within the grounds is Mr Xenophilius Lovegood, who has always supported Harry Potter throughout this terrible time and has earned the right to publish a story announcing the end of the war.

"Furthermore, we have the grave matter of our dead. Those who wish to take their loved ones home with them may do so. However, if a body is not claimed by a family within three days, they will be buried in a grave here on Hogwarts grounds. All Death Eaters' bodies will be burned.

"Those who wish to stay at Hogwarts to help assist the rebuilding and cleaning may do so for as long as they wish. Rebuilding starts now. Dinner will be provided by the house-elves for those who need it later tonight.

"So now, those who wish to travel home by Floo, follow me. Those assisting in the clean-up, listen to the members of the Order. They will divide you into groups and tell you what to do. Thank you all – your courage and bravery this past night has allowed us to come away with a victory! Everyone in this hall should be proud."

Professor McGonagall's speech ended in silence for several moments, before people hastily shook themselves into action. Ginny was slightly in awe of the woman and she and Luna exchanged looks.

"No bloody idea how she does that," she muttered.

"She is a wonderful teacher. She is also a wonderful person," Luna agreed. "Are you going to help rebuild the castle?"

Ginny shrugged. "S'pose. Haven't really talked about what we're going to do yet, what with Fred …" She cut herself off, not trusting herself to speak any more. Luna caught on to this immediately and before Ginny could say another word, Luna had hugged her tightly.

"I am very sorry about your brother," Luna said softly, stroking her hair. "But it's not all bad. You will see him again."

Ginny nodded into Luna's shoulder. "Yeah. One day."

She squeezed Luna a bit tighter for a second before letting go. Where the hell _was_ Harry?

"Well, we'd better get helping with the cleaning," Ginny muttered, bitterly. "Maybe if we peel back the dirt I'll finally be able to find out where Harry's actually hidden himself."

"Oh, he's with Ron and Hermione," Luna said simply and Ginny turned to stare. "He needed a bit of time away from all the people. I hope he's resting now."

"I …" Ginny didn't know what to say. "Do you know where he is?"

Luna shook her head. "He'll come when he's better," she said. "I do not think you need to worry, he'll come. He always comes. Especially for you. I'll see you later, Ginny." Luna kissed her lightly on the cheek before disappearing off into the crowd of people.

Oh, that Luna. Ginny at least managed a smile for her good friend, but didn't think she could quite bring herself to join in with the cleaning just yet. None of her family had moved from their various places around the hall, and the more she stood by herself, the more she wished that Luna was still there to hug. Ever since she had first caught a glance of her brother's blank, _dead_, face she had felt like someone had hacked her arm off. Ever since she was little, she'd always been able to pride herself in telling people, "I have six older brothers. They're idiots, but I love them."

What the hell was she supposed to say now?

Figuring that moving was better than doing nothing, she slipped out of the Great Hall before she could get roped into cleaning. She ended up wandering the depths of the castle, having to practically climb around fallen statues and crumbling walls, jumping over a floor collapse and at one point, even needing to levitate herself up a flight of stairs since they looked so unstable, she feared they might collapse under her.

She didn't even know where she was going. All she knew was that when she clattered out onto a shaky corridor near the second floor that looked like a bomb had hit it, she saw one lone person walking down it, his back to her.

But she'd know that back of a head anywhere.

"Harry?"

He turned and his face completely transformed when he saw her. While for a split second, he had looked absolutely and completely shattered, he now looked suddenly wide awake and alert.

"G-Ginny?" he stumbled over her name.

"Hey …" she said, trying to keep the bitterness out of her voice.

She could barely understand how she was feeling, just standing there watching him. Even though she had barely seen him in over a year, it was remarkable how much he still reminded her of the Harry she'd fallen for. He still had that messy black hair, those same dorky glasses that had somehow miraculously survived the battle without getting smashed, and even though they probably both looked a mess, he was still just … _there_.

She didn't think she would _ever_ forget the squeezing of her heart when she had first seen his dead body.

"… erm, where've you been?" was all she could barely manage to say.

"With Ron and Hermione," he answered, wincing as he noticed her tone. He hesitantly stepped towards her, but she didn't move. "We were just talking. They've gone somewhere. Dunno where, didn't really ask. I was just heading down to the kitchens to get a sandwich …"

"That sounds like something I could really use right now," Ginny said. She didn't think she'd ever spoken so flatly before, but she rather thought that if she didn't stay perfectly calm, she would completely snap. _I needed you – I still need you – and you died_. He was now barely two feet from her.

"One of three things I want," Harry said, shrugging. "That, a good, long sleep with no disruptions and, er, a hug from you."

She might have broken down right then and there if she hadn't still been so bloody _angry_. It was Harry half-heartedly raising his arms, as if to get said hug, which finally made her lose it. Without thinking, she crossed the two feet between them within seconds and punched him as hard as she could straight in the nose.

With a satisfying _crack_, Harry stumbled backwards, yelling and clutching his nose, which started to bleed. "Effing Merlin!" he yelled. "What the flipping hell was _that_ for?"

"You _died_!" Ginny yelled, only slightly sorry for hurting him.

Harry just stared at her for a few moments.

"I – I came back!" he stammered.

"Yeah, well I didn't know that, did I?" Ginny continued to yell. "I thought you were _dead_ and you were seriously just screwing with us all the whole time? I don't bloody think so! You nearly gave me a HEART ATTACK!"

"Well, what did you want me to do?" Harry shouted back, frowning. "Go back in time? Tell Riddle no, sorry, you can't kill me because that'll _really_ piss off my ex-girlfriend?"

"I – no! I don't know!" Ginny rubbed her eyes frantically, refusing to let tears spill over. She hadn't cried when her brother died, and she wasn't about to cry now. "I just don't _know_, Harry! When I saw Hagrid carrying you, I don't even … god. I thought I must have died as well. I thought it was all over … I _thought_ …"

"I know," Harry said, gingerly prodding his nose with his finger before pulling out his wand. With a crunch and a yelp of pain, his nose at least looked like it was in the right place again. "Bloody _hell_, I forgot how much you can pack a punch …"

"Yeah, well."

"Ginny, that bloody _hurt_."

"Good! It was supposed to!" she told him, folding her arms. "So. Are you _ever_ going to bother to explain what you've been doing the past ten months? Or am I going to be left guessing forever?"

"I – Gin –" Harry glanced around and noticed a statue that had been ripped up and thrown onto its side. He took her hand and quickly led her over to the statue and sat her down beside him. She had no idea how she felt when he pulled his hand back. "Ginny, there is _so much_ I want to say to you. Honestly, I don't even know where to begin. 'I'm sorry' is pretty high up there though, so I'll start with that. I'm so, _so_, sorry for everything. For dumping you, for falling for you in the first place, for Fred, for making you stay in the Room of Requirement, for dying and not telling you …"

Ginny blinked. "You … you don't have to apologise for falling for me," she mumbled, not looking at him.

Harry sighed and rubbed his eyes warily. "And I don't want to. Ginny … look, I don't regret that time together last year, I really don't, except only sometimes I would wonder if it would've just been easier if we'd never gone out. It was like … I got a taste of freedom, for the first time in my life and I _liked_ it. But I could never have that because all I had to look forward to in my life was, well, defeating Riddle."

Ginny could hardly believe what he was saying as she hesitantly said, "But now he's gone …"

Harry sighed. "Now he's gone and I have no idea what I'm going to do with my life. I don't know what's in my future any more. The only thing I know I'm definitely sure of is that I want you in it. I don't care how," he added hastily when he caught Ginny's expression. "If – if you just want to stay friends, that's … that's fine. But I want you with me. I need you."

It was quite possibly the best and worst thing she'd ever heard in her life. When he said things like that, it made it a lot harder to be angry at him. But not impossible.

"Ok, let me get this," Ginny thought hard. "You fluff around for a year before actually asking me out. We barely get a month together before you dump me to run off on some suicide mission. You're surprised to make it out alive and now you don't know how to handle the girl you left behind, since you thought you'd be conveniently dead once this was all over?"

Harry blinked. "What–? No! Ginny, of course I don't–"

"Because I'm _sick_ of being messed around!" Ginny said bitterly, standing up and facing him. "You died today, not too long after my _brother_ died and you say that you need me? Did it never even occur to you that I might need _you_? I swear I am _this_ close to losing it, so I am not just going to sit here and watch you come crawling back!"

Harry was looking quite gob-smacked, too much to even protest again the fact that he hadn't actually died. Even Ginny had to admit she didn't know where this was all coming from. She knew she was angry, had hoped that all she would be able to feel was anger, but remembering Harry's lifeless body, remembering Fred's blank face, made her realise that the anger simply helped cover up the pain of the past few hours.

And that was when she broke.

The tears had been pressing at her ever since she'd found out her brother was dead, but she'd been forcing them back. Now, no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't stop a tear from falling. "How …" She struggled for words. "How the _hell_ d'you survive this? The – death, I mean, Harry, it hurts so bloody much …"

"I know," he said, looking utterly devastated. He stood as well, tentatively moving in front of her. "Ginny … I'm sorry. I know I've said that, but I'm so sorry about everything. Fred was a good man, he didn't deserve to die."

Ginny tried not to sob. "He's gone …" she whispered.

"I know."

"_How_ …"

Harry just shrugged. "Time. Time's the only thing that can make you better. But it's always going to hurt. It'll get better and you'll eventually be able to think about him and smile, but it will always, _always_ hurt."

"Oh, god–" Ginny managed to get out before the tears got the better of her and she could barely hold herself upright anymore. However, that was only partly the reason that she stepped forward and flung her arms around him, throwing her face into his neck and clutching desperately at his tatty shirt. She _needed_ this, needed arms around her, needed a space where neck and shoulder met to push her face into as she cried, needed a neck to cling around. Because for the first time since she saw his lifeless face, she really let herself think of Fred. The brother she would never talk to again. The brother they would have to put in a hole in the ground. She was shaking so hard from her sobs that she thought she must be making Harry move, too. However it was only when she had finally managed to calm down somewhat when she realised that he was shaking because he had been crying as well.

"It's ok …" he was murmuring into her ear. "I'm here, Ginny. You're ok."

"I know," she whispered back.

It was several more moments before they had both finally managed to pull it together and Ginny was rubbing her eyes on his shoulder when he asked, "So if you hate me so much, why're you still hugging me?"

"Because I _missed_ you, you bloody idiot," she told him.

"Oh," Harry pulled back slightly so he could give her a small smile. "I missed you, too. And a bit more, but we can talk about that later."

"Yeah?"

"_Yeah_," Harry shrugged, tightening his grip around her. "I mean, my life has always been a rush. Rush to survive, rush to get to the end. But now … I think we've got all the time in the world."

* * *

><p><em>late morning <em>

Parvati sat next to Lavender in the Great Hall, holding her best friend's hand and stroking back her fringe. She was completely out cold, the only way to keep her from screaming in pain. Padma had checked in a few times to make sure she was still all right, but mostly just left her sister to look after her friend.

She wasn't moving. _Nothing_ could make her move.

"Move. Now," a stern voice ordered and Parvati shifted immediately as Madam Pomfrey practically shoved her out of the way.

Well. She didn't include the _matron_.

"How's she doing?" Parvati asked, desperate for more information than, 'this is bad'.

Madam Pomfrey tsked and fussed for several moments before answering. "She needs to get to St. Mungo's as soon as she can tolerate enough pain to rouse for a few minutes," she said. "The Healers will want to question her since this is such a rare case and she needs to be able to answer. Bill Weasley could go with her, he's already talked to some of the victims with minor injuries, but … well, as for if she'll live, I have my doubts."

"I don't want to hear that!" Parvati insisted, moving to Lavender's other side so she could still hold her hand and not get in Madam Pomfrey's way. "She's my _best friend_! She is _not_ going to die today!"

Madam Pomfrey stared at her hard. The usually so proper matron currently had dark, sunken eyes, like she hadn't slept for days … actually, she probably hadn't. "I don't want you to get your hopes up," she said to Parvati, firmly. "I've had many of my patients die before I could save them today. I mean last night. Oh, whenever. Point is, expect the worse. I've never had so many like her before," She glanced down at where she was holding her wand to Lavender's wrist. "Heartbeat is steady for now. I'll be back to check on her later." And she bustled off.

Parvati stared down at her once beautiful friend. There had been a point when Parvati had been so jealous of Lavender's looks; now, she could barely stand to look at her. Her face and neck was half covered in hastily wrapped bandages as Fenrir Greyback had practically shredded her skin. There was only so much blood one could take and Parvati was sure that she was reaching her limit.

Still. She wouldn't leave Lavender.

Only some people had taken the time out to come and see how Lavender was doing; mainly Seamus, who had always been the boy closest to the two of them from their class, and Padma. Pretty much everyone else was all busy with their own families and friends.

So, naturally, she was more than shocked when Hermione Granger turned up.

"_Hermione_?" Parvati asked, astounded. Hermione was looking slightly green-tinged, but still determined as she sat down next to the camp stretcher that had been conjured up for Lavender to lie on. "What're you doing here?"

"Seeing if Lavender is ok," she said, looking straight at her. "Parvati, how is she?"

Parvati was still in shock, so she ended up telling the truth. "Madam Pomfrey honestly doesn't know if she'll make it to St. Mungo's," she said. "Every time she's conscious, she screams and screams from the pain and won't answer to anyone. The cuts can't be healed properly and her family can't get here because they're stuck at the Ministry."

Hermione blinked and Parvati couldn't possibly guess what was going through her mind. She didn't answer for a long time and eventually, Parvati couldn't take the silence. "So what have you been doing since it ended?" she asked, half-heartedly.

Hermione shrugged, wincing when she made to rub her eyes but accidentally bumped a bruise on her face instead. "I've been with Harry and Ron. Harry's exhausted, he said he was going to get a sandwich then go to bed. Ron … Ron's with his family," She glanced behind her and Parvati looked as well, only to see the entire Weasley family, minus two siblings, now standing and crouching around the fallen brother. Parvati still got a pang whenever she saw Fred Weasley's face. She noticed that the two siblings missing were Ginny, nowhere to be seen, and of course George, who had been gone for a few hours now.

Ron was standing with Bill and Fleur, the latter with her arms around both men. Fleur wept silently as Ron stared blankly at his dead brother. Parvati couldn't tell Bill's expression, since he had hidden his face in his wife's hair.

"They're a strong family," Parvati said. "They … I'm sure they'll get through this."

Hermione gave her a look. "I'm not so sure. I have no _idea_ how they will get through this. I don't even know how _I_ should be feeling. I mean, compared to Ron, I barely knew F-Fred …" She sniffed loudly and turned back to Lavender. "Doesn't matter," she said, reaching out a hand and tugging back a lock of hair that had been stuck in the bandages. "For now, I just need to check on Lavender."

Parvati watched her for a few moments before asking, "Why're you doing this? I mean, we've always been all right, but I got the impression that you and Lavender never really got along …"

Hermione glanced up before shrugging. "I made an effort to like her, I really did," she said. "But … we were just so _different_ … I mean, we _are_ different," she added, taking care not to speak in a past tense. "We were never going to see eye to eye, not when Ron was involved anyway."

Parvati managed a slight smile, despite herself. She'd spent what had felt like countless hours gossiping with Lavender about the state of Ron and Hermione. Naturally, all throughout sixth-year she had been the faithful friend exclaiming, 'Girl, Ron's totally fit, who cares about Hermione!' but she couldn't deny that even she and Lavender at one point had just wanted them to get off already.

"Can I ask …" Parvati figured there would be no other time that was appropriate, so she might as well satisfy her curiosity now. "What's the deal with you two? I mean, I know you've been practically in love with him for years, but are you actually together or what …?"

Hermione avoided her eye and blushed, a bright red that rivalled the blood that slowly seeped out of Lavender's skin. "I don't know," she eventually settled on. "Things have been so … _mad_ lately, that I just don't know what's going on. Things have sort of spilled over … I mean, we've kissed, but–"

"You're _serious_?" Parvati couldn't help but laugh at that, knowing what her best friend's reaction would have been, had this been a year ago and Lavender were conscious. "Oh god, I would've given anything to have seen that!"

Hermione gave a slight smile. "Harry was there," she said. "I think we actually managed to traumatise him."

"Oh, poor bloke."

"Either way," Hermione broke off, expression hard to read. She glanced over at Ron again across the hall. "It's been kind of – awkward, trying to get our heads around everything that's happened, as well as trying to figure out our weird love life. The more time that goes on, the harder and harder it is to talk to him. He wanted to stay with his family for a while and I don't blame him. I'm sort of debating hiding somewhere until this all blows over."

Parvati snorted at that. "Hermione, if there's _anything_ I've learnt from that bloke over the years, it's how he feels about you. Don't let the awkwardness get in the way."

"You _knew_ that he …" Hermione's voice trailed off, though Parvati didn't really need her to finish.

"Of course!" she said. "I knew, Lavender knew – hell, I think most of Gryffindor house bloody knew!"

"Oh my god …" Hermione moaned then, hiding her face in the hand that wasn't currently on Lavender's shoulder. Parvati managed a smile, though Hermione looked so horrified that she ended up taking pity on her and giving her the chance to change the subject. Besides, it was still something she was also curious about.

"So …" she said. "You're here with Lavender then to try and, what? Make up for all those times you rowed and fought with her?"

Hermione let her hand fall away from her face, glancing sadly down at her former dormitory mate. "To make up for everything," she said. "Quite frankly, I was a cow to her sometimes. But there was no way I was letting her die in that battle and there's _no way_ I'm letting her die now. Madam Pomfrey?" Hermione called and the matron stuck her head up, irritably.

"What is it?" she said. "I'm a little busy here!"

"Lavender Brown – the werewolf victim – is she safe for travel?"

Madam Pomfrey frowned. "Not really, but it'll be too late if we waited for her to be safe anyway."

"Then let's go," Hermione stood up, offering a hand to Parvati to help her to her feet. She didn't take it, only stared.

"What're you on about?" she said.

"Let's take Lavender to St. Mungo's now!" Hermione said, not waiting for her hand to be accepted, just bending down and grabbing her anyway. Parvati was hauled upright before she even realised it.

"But she needs to be able to tolerate pain!"

"She's no good lying around here," Hermione said, pointing her wand at the camp stretcher and it hovered off the ground. "At least at St. Mungo's, she'll be in a proper hospital, not a castle hall and with people to look after her. Come on," she insisted when she caught the doubt on Parvati's face. "Do it for her, Parvati. Your best friend. She's not dying today, right?"

It took a long moment before she trusted her, but eventually, Parvati answered, "Right. Ready, Lavender?" she asked.

Hermione glanced down too and softly touched the back of her hand to Lavender's cheek. "I'm going to save you," she murmured.

* * *

><p><em>late morning <em>

When Harry and Ginny entered the Great Hall, it was to find it in a form of organised chaos. With so many critical patients and injuries, they were being frantically looked after by Madam Pomfrey right there in the hall. She had apparently accumulated an entire team of students to assist her, having found under the circumstances that they all seemed to have a knack for healing. Harry caught sight of Hermione standing with who he recognised as Parvati and poor Lavender before heading determinedly for the doors. Hermione caught Harry's eye as they walked past him and she mouthed, "St. Mungo's, Floo!"

Harry nodded grimly to her, hoping that Lavender would pull through. He didn't think he'd be able to handle any other deaths today. His grip on Ginny's hand tightened and she noticed, turning to glance at him.

"It'll be ok," she muttered. "All the time in the world, remember?"

He nodded, disbelieving that she could still comfort him after what had happened in that corridor upstairs. They had sat together and simply cried for what felt like an age. Sure, things were still slightly awkward after Ginny's initial anger at him, but they were at least trying to fix it. He wasn't entirely sure what he wanted to do now. The Great Hall was starting to make him anxious, chest tightening as he caught glimpses of beaten students and the fallen rubble, but he was Harry Potter. As Ginny had shown him, he was needed here. As much as he just wanted to curl up somewhere and pass out (seriously, even a rock would do at this point) he knew he couldn't quite forget just yet.

Luckily, one of the few people he would have actually been willing to speak to, was one who did.

"Hey, mate," Ron's voice was croaky and barely audible as he and Ginny approached. He stood arm in arm with Bill and Fleur, eyes and nose red, in contrast to his pale face. "Can I talk to you?"

"Sure," he said, almost relieved that no one was going to make him be the Saviour of the Wizarding World again just yet. As Ron disentangled himself from his brother and sister-in-law, Harry turned to Ginny and suddenly found that he wasn't quite sure what to do with himself. Eventually, Ginny decided it for him where she squeezed his hand once with a small smile before moving away to go throw her arms around Fleur.

Harry and Ron thankfully managed to get away before the rest of the family converged on them. Harry still hadn't quite faced Mrs Weasley yet and honestly didn't know what he would do when he did. She had always said that Harry was as good as her son, but one of her real sons had died today and it had more or less been Harry's fault. She wouldn't think he was family now.

He and Ron collapsed together on one of the benches, far from the rest of the Weasley family. They were near the front doors of the Great Hall and they just caught sight of Hermione finishing her quick conversation with Professor McGonagall, before leaving with Parvati and the floating camp stretcher containing Lavender. Harry turned to look at Ron and was surprised to see such blatant adoration in his gaze. For the past almost seven years, Harry had seen Ron try and cover up that face basically every second of every day. He wasn't used to the idea of him not even bothering to hide his feelings anymore.

Besides, Ron even _having_ feelings was a wonder enough.

"Soooo," Harry said, forgetting his own worries for a moment as Ron continued to watch the doors, as if Hermione might appear again any second. "Exactly _how_ many years have you been in love with Hermione for?"

Ron didn't answer for a while, just let out a rather large sigh. Then, he held up a hand and started counting on his fingers, an action that almost made Harry laugh.

"About three years?" he said. "Er, give or take a few?"

"Only three?" Harry asked, surprised.

"Well," Ron shrugged. "Yule Ball. That's when I figured that I had been an idiot the last four years. Not that I have a clue what I'm doing now, either. _Jesus_, this is weird to talk about out loud, can't I just go back to when hated her guts?"

Harry snorted. "You mean back to when all that bickering was what? Playful banter?"

"Oh, screw you," Ron rolled his eyes.

"Just sayin'!"

"Yeah, yeah, you've _known_, haven't you?" Ron said to him, accusingly. "I don't know how, but you figured it out, didn't you?"

"_C'mon_," Harry said. "If I hadn't have realised after the Lavender Fiasco, then I would've had to have been effing blind!"

Ron just grumbled a mixture of swear words and insults under his breath, staring at the doors to the Great Hall again. Harry tried his best not to snigger in amusement. Ron paused for a moment then, before saying, "She's in a bad way, isn't she? Lavender I mean."

"I think so, yeah," Harry said, frowning. "I only got a glimpse of her during the battle before we had to move on and I could only just catch her moving. Hermione's helping to transfer her to St. Mungo's now with Parvati."

"Wondered where they were going …" Ron muttered and Harry looked at him.

"She didn't tell you?"

"She hasn't spoken to me at all since we left Dumbledore's office," Ron admitted in a slightly bitter voice. "That's why I wanted to talk to you, I just don't get her! I thought we were … I dunno. But she started pulling back, so I said I wanted to spend some time with my family, and bloody hell, she probably hates me …"

"Mate," Harry shook his head. "Please tell me that you've actually _tried _to talk to her?"

"I … well, I mean … hey, _she_ kissed me!" he said, indignantly.

"Yeah, I know, I was _there_, remember?"

Ron gave him an apologetic look. "Oh, right," he muttered. "Sorry about that. But she had just thrown herself at me, I couldn't just say, 'not the time, Hermione,' could I?"

Harry snorted. "Nah. Forget about it, you two deserve it after the year we've just had. Besides, I've seen it coming for a few years now and considering how much luck we have, I figured I'd end up witnessing it."

Ron just shook his head as if he would never quite believe that he had actually kissed Hermione. "Anyway," he said, apparently in the end of a subject change. "Have you patched things up with my sister? Saw you two together …"

Harry actually allowed his thoughts to stray to Ginny once more. After spending the last year trying to force himself to think of anything but, he was actually rather alarmed at how easily it suddenly came.

"Er … sort of. Actually, I'm not sure," he said. "She got rather angry at me for pretending to die and, y'know, everything else that's happened. Then she sort of broke down … don't tell her I told you that," he added, hastily.

"Don't worry, I won't," Ron said, immediately. "I've been on the receiving end of her anger before and trust me, I'm not going to get into _that_ situation again in a hurry."

"But we're talking at least," Harry said, leaning over slightly so he could see Ginny across the hall with Bill and Fleur. "That's something."

"More than what I can say about Hermione …"

"Blimey, mate, why do we do it?" Harry mused out loud, shaking his head. "The whole 'girl' thing? I mean, I'm starting to wonder why we put ourselves through all of this!"

"Because when we were younger, we didn't care," Ron stated, shrugging as if he'd already thought about this. "Then when we grew up, we didn't have time. Now we've finally got both and it's bloody insane. Or hey, maybe it's just because we like causing ourselves pain, who the hell knows?"

"Yeah, that's probably it," Harry muttered. They sat there together for quite a while, not really saying anything, but just offering companionable silence. It was something he'd always liked about his best friend; sometimes, just each other's presence was enough. Harry knew that him and his family was going to have a tough next few days, and even tougher days to come after that. And even though he knew that the Weasley family was a strong one and that Ginny was probably one of the strongest of them all (and also even though no matter how much he admitted to himself that that was one of the many things he liked so much about her), he knew that she had to let herself grieve, or she would never get better. Given how she'd practically hated herself upstairs for crying with him, he figured that that was going to be a hard road.

And Hermione. She didn't know when to stop – stop helping, stop cleaning, when to just _stop_, take a break and concentrate on herself for a change. For the longest time at Hogwarts, the only person who had been able to get her to put down her homework and just breathe for a few minutes was, well, _Ron_. She was going to need him. Now more than ever.

But Harry was fine for now, with just him and Ron sat together. They could face the world later.

* * *

><p><em>mid-day <em>

George tried not to think about him. He really did. It never worked.

He was sat in the stands of the Hogwarts Quidditch pitch, where he had a perfect view of the ruined castle reflecting off the lake. Not that it _mattered_. Fred still wasn't there to see it.

_Fred wasn't there_.

When he'd first seen the dead body, he'd thought it had to be some kind of sick joke. Fred was just kidding around and was about to leap up and get a good smack off their Mum. But he never did – he just _laid_ there. George had already walked through the Great Hall and seen many students he once knew or still did know dead, including one bloke who used to live in his dormitory, who he and Fred once played practical jokes on. Now, however, he seemed to have been hit by a grotesque spell that had burnt him from head to toe. The only reason Madam Pomfrey had been able to identify him was from his wand.

Then he'd seen Remus and Tonks and it was like getting hit in the gut several times over. He _knew_ Remus and Tonks, he _liked_ Remus and Tonks. They had a _baby son_ who was barely a month old. And they were just … _dead_. It wasn't fair and he'd stopped there to cry a few tears and beg Tonks to change her hair colour, just one more time.

But that was when Bill had called out to him and he caught the looks on his family's faces.

He should have realised. For a while before the ceasefire had even been called, he'd been fighting with a sudden sick feeling inside him, like he just _knew _that something was wrong. However, he'd refused to listen to it, knowing that he'd need all his attention on the battle. But when he had looked over, he thought he might just hex himself for not listening, and that could never even come _close_ to making him feel better.

Percy had been sat at Fred's feet, face hidden in his knees. Bill had never let Fleur more than an arm's length away from him, her face completely stained with tears. Charlie hadn't arrived at the castle at that point yet and Ron was of course nowhere to be found, but their mum and dad were both crying over their son, stroking his hair and clutching his hand.

George had felt like he might be sick. He hadn't wanted to accept it.

He still didn't.

He liked it out here in the stands. Despite the midday sun, the wind was absolutely bitter and he was shivering in his rather ratty t-shirt, but he didn't care. The wind distracted him. If he didn't think about it, then it would be like it never happened. Fred would still be alive. He'd be up at the castle, helping tidy up.

So long as he never moved from this spot, he'd be ok.

"G-George?"

He recognised the voice. _Of_ _course_. His little sister was picking her way across the Quidditch pitch, climbing over the seats until she had reached his side. She sat down heavily and stared out over the stands.

"It's bloody freezing," she said.

"Yeah."

"You coming inside?"

"No."

Ginny nodded and didn't say anything else. George felt the tears threatening to come, but he choked them down the best he could. No need. Fred wasn't dead. He was still at the castle, helping tidy up …

They were silent for a long time, just sitting next to each other. At one point, Ginny took his hand and gripped it tightly and he let her. Ginny had seen a lot of people she knew die. Hell, she saw _Harry_ dead. Of course she would need a little comfort.

After what seemed like an age, George finally found something to say.

"He's not dead. Fred, I mean."

Ginny just looked up at him sadly. She squeezed his hand tightly before giving a heavy sigh.

"Yeah, sure. I know."

* * *

><p><em>early afternoon <em>

Harry glanced up almost as soon as Ginny re-entered the Great Hall. He caught her eye and all she gave was a shake of her head. No. George wasn't coming inside any time soon.

He and Ron had re-joined the Weasley family, sat around Fred. They had all been silent, save for their quiet sobs until Ginny approached them.

"No George," she said, stopping at Harry's side. "He just wants to be by himself for a while."

Mrs Weasley's entire face was red from crying, but that was when she sat up from her position on the floor next to her dead son's head. "Right," she said determinedly, accepting Charlie's hand in getting to her feet. Mr Weasley was off with the Order once more, helping to clean the school, and it appeared that Mrs Weasley was about to make them all follow suit. "There's no point sitting around here all day, there's work to be done! You lot–" She pointed to the rest of her children, blood related or otherwise. "–it's time to get to work. We can all stay at Hogwarts tonight."

And she bustled off without a backwards glance.

"Why do I get the feeling that she's going to try and forget all this by cleaning herself into a coma?" Ginny asked, sighing.

"Because she's Mum," Ron said. The three of them exchanged looks. "Oh, don't tell me, we've actually got to go help clean the castle now, right?"

"Yes, Ron!" Ginny said, slapping his arm. "This has been our home for six, seven years! We've got to do something to help it."

"Damn, I was really looking forward to that ten hours of sleep …" Harry muttered. Once they had organised with the others who was doing what, the three of them quietly left for the rest of the main castle. However, they didn't get very far out of the Great Hall, since it was several metres from the doors when Hermione re-entered the hall from the Marble Staircase, obviously just returning from St. Mungo's. Ron stopped dead.

Ginny's head swivelled between the two and said, "_Ah_."

Hermione had stopped too, only she appeared to recover faster than Ron did. "Hey," she said softly, hesitantly approaching and avoiding Ron's eye. "Lavender's doing ok. It was a bit shaky when we first arrived and the screaming was awful, but the Healers soon worked their magic. Her family and Parvati's with her."

"That's great," Harry said, since it was becoming clear that Ron wasn't going to say anything. He and Ginny exchanged looks; he didn't think he'd ever witnessed a more awkward moment, and that _included_ the time Hermione had asked out Ron during a Herbology lesson back in their sixth-year!

"We're going to help clean the castle," Ginny put in when no one else said anything.

"Oh, fantastic!" Hermione said. "I'd love to help clean. Might make up for the fact that we haven't been here the past year."

"Yeah," Ron suddenly piped up. "And besides, you're the best at those sorts of spells. Or any spells really, but those ones in particular."

The compliment wasn't lost on Harry, but Hermione it seemed was doing her best to ignore Ron. She didn't answer him, just went slightly red and stared at the floor before Harry took pity on her and said, "C'mon. Hermione, you can come with me. Ginny … make sure Ron doesn't fall down some stairs or something."

"Oi!" Ron said, but Harry had already dragged Hermione away and back towards the Marble Staircase, nodding to the students discussing with some Order members how to go about fixing it. All around, people were steadily getting into the clean-up of the castle; there were a few people in the Entrance Hall and in the corridors beyond, some slowly having to magic bricks back into place to repair a wall where the Acromantulas had burst in, others trying to scrub blood stains out of the stone.

It would be a miracle if it ever came out.

"Hermione, why're you ignoring Ron?" Harry figured it would be best to just cut straight to the chase as they headed up the Marble Staircase … or well, what was left of it. The entire right half of the staircase had crumbled, so they needed to clutch at the banister on the left hand side to practically climb up.

"What–? I'm not _ignoring_ Ron–"

Harry just snorted as they clambered out onto the first floor. "C'mon, Hermione!" he said, nudging her with his shoulder. "You're the smartest girl I know, so don't give me _that _rubbish. He told me the two of you have hardly spoken all day and just now? What the hell was _that_?"

Hermione sighed and stopped to lean against the corridor wall in one of the few places where the walls were still standing. He moved and joined her, pressing his shoulder comfortably against hers.

"There's no chance we can just pretend none of this happened, right?" she asked, eyes closed.

"Believe me, I've been wishing that the last few years," Harry said.

Hermione finally glanced up at him. "Every time I look at him, I can't help but remember when I … well …"

"Yeah. You know, I think I vaguely remember that part," Harry said, rather interested to actually hear Hermione's side in all of this. "Trust me, I know you gave Ron one hell of a shock!"

Hermione shook her head before sliding down the wall until she was sitting down. Harry bent and sat down with her. "I don't know what came over me!" she said. "One second we were fighting for our lives, the next he was just being so _Ron_ that I … I don't know, snapped …"

Harry thought for a few moments before giving her the best advice he could think of. "Talk to him," he said. "I'm serious, Hermione, just go talk to him. He's pretty hurt right now and, let's face it, he needs you a lot."

"I know," Hermione muttered, so low that Harry barely caught it. "I need him, too."

They were silent for a bit, watching as groups of people came down their corridor, sweeping up rubble and saying _reparo_ to anything that would be fixed under the spell. Eventually, Hermione said, "We'll have to go to a funeral, won't we?"

Harry glanced at her, confused. "Hermione, I think we're going to end up going to a lot of funerals after this …"

She shook her head. "I mean for Fred," She blinked and looked away. "I mean, it just hit me right now … I'm going to have to go to a _funeral_. Dumbledore's is the only one I've been to besides my grandma's when I was six and I barely remember that. Harry, I _don't know_ how to handle someone dying …"

"What d'you mean?" Harry asked, frowning.

Hermione just gave a sad sort of sound before leaning her head on his shoulder, wrapping an arm around his elbow and holding on, tightly. He figured he'd let her, even though he _did_ rather fear losing the feeling in his arm. "Every time someone has died, they've never been close to me," she muttered into his shoulder. "I mean, I've known them, like Dumbledore, but I was never _close_ to them like you were. When Sirius died I was sad, sure, but not like you … he was like a second dad to you whereas I just lived in his house for a bit over the summer. It's been the same with everyone. But Fred …"

"You were a lot closer to Fred than all the others," Harry made sure to tell her. "Hermione, listen to me, you're _allowed_ to grieve."

"But I wasn't that close!" she cried. "Not like Ron – I'm not his brother! I'm not his twin! I didn't even hang out with him while we were at Hogwarts! I only just–"

"–just knew him for seven years," Harry cut over her rising voice. "Were friends with him for almost just as long. Lived in his house nearly every summer since you were twelve. Put him in detention more times than a kid with Dragon Pox would sneeze fire. Ate at the same breakfast table as him. Hermione, you _knew_ him."

Hermione glanced up at him for a moment. "I don't even know how to grieve, Harry," she said, miserably. "I've never had to do it before, not properly. I don't even know who I'm allowed to grieve for–"

"For god's sake, Hermione!" Harry said, almost _liking_ the feeling of exasperation that was rising at Hermione just being Hermione; it was almost comforting. "Of _course_ you're allowed to grieve for Fred! And it doesn't _matter_ how you do it, everyone grieves in different ways–"

"I don't deserve it!" Hermione cut in, startling him.

"… what the _hell_ makes you say that?" he asked, frowning.

She just shrugged, hiding her face in his shoulder again. "I'm Hermione Granger. I'm the one with all the answers, but I _don't know_ how to do this. If _I_ don't know, then what am I supposed to do? Ron … Ron needs someone who can comfort him. I can't even do _that_ right and look at me, I'm crying all over you! Ron doesn't need someone like that."

Harry sighed. "Maybe not, but he doesn't just need someone to look after him," he told her. "He needs someone who gets him to just be there. He needs _you_. He honestly and truly does because I'm telling you now, I don't think I've ever seen two people love each other as much and you two do."

Hermione didn't answer for a long time and a hasty glance down told him that she had gone bright red. If he couldn't see through all her hair, then he could totally tell just by the way she suddenly tensed. "I …" she began, but trailed off.

"He's going spare," Harry told her. "_Please_, just bloody well talk to him? His complaining is doing my head in!"

Hermione sat up and rubbed at her eyes, giving a small laugh despite herself. "Ok," she said and Harry breathed a sigh of relief. "I will. At some point. Now, we should probably get back to what we were supposed to be doing in the first place."

Harry sighed as they both helped each other up. "I dunno about you, but I'm so knackered I swear I could fall asleep still standing."

Hermione smiled at him before moving forward and wrapping her arms tightly around his waist. "Yeah, so could I," she said into his chest. "But Hogwarts comes first."

Harry hugged her back. "Yeah. Let's save Hogwarts."

* * *

><p>AN: Ok, first of all, I apologise for the insane length of this. This is only part one since all up the 'oneshot' (and I use that term _verrrry_ loosely) was about 20,000 words. So I split it into two parts.

This story was completely inspired by my watching _Deathly Hallows: Part 2_. Yes, I was completely devastated (seriously, I think I walked out of that movie theatre saying, "But … but what am I supposed to DO with my life?") but it gave me motivation to write, so this came into existence! A lot of moments, particularly between Ron and Hermione, are based on the movie, especially in part 2 of this story, mainly because I loved them and felt like they needed to be used.

Also I know that in the book the fate of Lavender was a bit sketchy and the movie actually goes and shows her dead, but I always imagined that Lavender survived the battle, though not without scars. So I kept that in this story.

This entire story is basically one giant headcannon for me about what happens immediately after the war. Either way, I hope you liked it, and that you all enjoyed the last movie as well!

I would love to know what you all think, so reviews are definitely appreciated!

Until next time –

– Moon. : D


	2. Early Afternoon to Dawn Again

**DISCLAIMER:** I don't own Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger or time.

* * *

><p>All the Time in the World.<p>

People are brought together and lives are shattered during the first 24 hours after the war. :Very long oneshot RHr HG and others postDH:

Complete list of ships: Ron/Hermione, Harry/Ginny, Bill/Fleur and slight Neville/Luna.

* * *

><p>PART TWO: Early Afternoon to Dawn Again.<p>

_early afternoon _

Luna had been helping clean all day. She had tied her hair back, which was still slightly singed in places thanks to the duels she had found herself in, and started on the Marble Staircase, sweeping aside rubble and beginning the pain-staking task of putting it back together, brick by brick.

But Luna didn't mind the work. It left the mind open and Luna always liked to have an open mind. She wished her father could be there with her, but he was busy with a story for the Quibbler to announce the end of the war. It was the only media outlet Professor McGonagall and Kingsley Shacklebolt had let print any story about Harry. She felt very proud of her father for that.

"It's no good, Luna," Michael Corner frowned as he scratched his forehead with his wand. The Ravenclaw had offered to help her, something that he had never ever done before, along with several others from her house. She had been surprised, but joined them regardless. While many of them agreed with Michael, they all seemed to turn to Luna to deliver a final verdict. "The staircase is just so unstable, we would have to tear out the whole thing and put in a new one!"

"But that staircase basically supports the entire castle," another Ravenclaw girl said, frowning. "I heard some Order members talking before, the entire foundations were built around that staircase. There's no way …"

"Oh, there are always ways …" Luna mused out loud, wandering around the foot of the ruined staircase with a thoughtful expression.

"_Luna_!"

She recognised Ginny's shout and she smiled, turning to face her friend. However, she frowned at the look on Ginny's face as she hurtled towards her from the oak front doors of the castle. Her face was absolutely serious.

"What is wrong?" Luna asked, immediately. Ginny didn't look _completely_ shattered, so Luna guessed that Harry and her family were all right; however, she still looked tense as she skidded to a halt beside her, grabbing Luna's arms to steady herself.

Ginny paused for a moment before saying, "It's your dad."

Luna wasn't quite sure what she had been expecting, but it wasn't that. She felt her eyes widen in surprise. "I thought Daddy was at home writing for the Quibbler?"

Ginny shook her head. "He was on his way here to interview the survivors, just got permission from Professor McGonagall, but he was supposed to arrive over an hour ago. We just got a patronus message now from one of the Order, who's patrolling outside – apparently your dad got caught up in the journalists at the entrance to the grounds and you know what they're like up there, they're bloody pissed off that the Quibbler of all magazines and newspapers gets clearance and they don't. It got pretty nasty. The Order finally managed to step in when they got there, but your dad …"

Luna found that she was still partly in shock. She supposed that on the outside, it would appear that she was very, very calm, despite the fact that really, she was screaming on the inside. Her father was _all_ she had. If she lost him, too …

"Is my daddy dead?" she asked, bluntly.

Ginny blinked. "Erm, no … no he's not dead, but … Luna, I wanted to warn you before they get him up here to Madam Pomfrey. He's … he's pretty beaten up …"

"If he's alive, then I don't have to worry for now," Luna said, still amazed at her calm outside. "They are bringing him to the castle?"

"Yeah …"

"Come on then," Luna took Ginny's hand and gently tugged her towards the doors. She remembered to pause and turne back to face Michael and the others, who were all looking shocked and sorry for her. "I am afraid I won't be able to help fix the Marble Staircase right now, Michael," she said. "I'm very sorry. But I will come as soon as I can. I'd watch out for Blibbering Humdingers when clearing out the rubble, they like to hide where there is chaos …"

With thoughts completely on getting to her father, Luna barely heard Michael mutter, "How the hell does she manage to maintain the same level of crazy every single day?"

* * *

><p><em>mid afternoon <em>

Bill and Fleur had been scrubbing and scrubbing all day together. Cleaning seemed to be Fleur's way of handling things, Bill figured, as they got down on their hands and knees and poured Mrs Scower's All-Purpose Magical Mess Remover over the blood stains of the stone floor in the Courtyard. They worked in silence, mainly because Fleur would start crying if she tried to talk and Bill could hardly think of anything to say.

Eventually, though, he couldn't take it anymore and he sat up and stared at his wife. Her long blond hair was now half-hacked off from when a Death Eater had caught her by it and Bill was forced to swing a cutting spell between them to free her. Her eyes were bloodshot, she had dark bruises coating her face and she was looking less and less like the part-veela she was as the day went by.

Bill would still say she was beautiful (_she could wear a paper bag and still look beautiful_) but before today, it was the way that she held herself that made her who she was. Why he fell in love with her in the first place. Fleur Delacour-Weasley was a confident, no-nonsense and independent woman who held herself high despite _anything_ that happened.

Now … she stared at the ground, never letting her eyes shift from the brush under her hands as she scrubbed. Whenever he attempted to talk to her, she wouldn't meet his eyes. When she had first seen Fred, her whole body had seemed to deflate until now, it seemed that there was just nothing left inside her.

He missed his wife.

"Oh, _Fleur_ …" Bill muttered, realising too late that he'd said it out loud.

Fleur looked up at him, still not quite reaching his eyes. "What eez eet?" she asked in a flat voice.

"Nothing, it's just …" Bill cast around for the right words. "… when are you going to start talking to me again?"

Fleur looked slightly puzzled. "I am talking to you right now."

"No, you're _not_," Bill said, trying not to sound too frustrated (_it was rather difficult_). "Ok, yeah, you might be saying something, but they're just _words_, Fleur, they don't have any meaning at all! You're saying them because you know that's what you should say, but you won't tell me a single thing that's going on in your head!"

"Well, what _can_ I say?" Fleur was suddenly angry, practically throwing her scrubbing brush away in disgust. "Your brozzer ees _dead_! I could say 'I'm sorry' but will zat actually make a difference? _Non_! So I don't say anyzing!"

"Then don't say sorry. Say something else. Maybe it would make a difference if you just talked to me," Bill said, exasperatedly. They were starting to get anxious looks from the other people working in the courtyard, but he ignored them. He pushed back onto his heels, took Fleur's hands and roughly pulled them to their feet. "Fleur, he was basically your brother too and I have no idea if you're all right!"

"_All right_?" Fleur said, jerking her hands back. "You zink _anyone_ in zis courtyard ees all right?"

Bill tried not to groan in frustration, reaching up and tugging on his hair. It was dirty and tangled, and though his ponytail had survived the battle, he was starting to wonder whether his act of defiance was sort of stupid in the end. People were dead. He'd nearly died several times. Suddenly, the world seemed a whole lot bigger than teenaged Bill first thought.

He glanced back at Fleur. "Ok, fine, wrong choice of words," he said. "But I don't care about anyone else in this courtyard! Fleur, all I care about is _you_! _And you won't talk to me_."

Fleur just stared at him for a few moments – his gorgeous, strong wife – before suddenly, she let out a shuddering sob and her hands flew to cover her mouth.

"Oh, god–" Bill suddenly didn't care that he was angry at her anymore. He strode forward as fast as he could and wrapped his wife up in his arms. Fleur clung to him desperately and sobbed into his t-shirt. He was pretty sure that she hated this, hated being seen so vulnerable, but then it was moments like these when he loved Fleur the most. Only _he_ got to see her like this (minus the few nosy people in the courtyard who hadn't politely turned away) and he loved that she wouldn't hold back from him. He'd thought that she had completely forgotten that their relationship even existed up until ten seconds ago. Now, as he held his shaking wife and cried himself, he knew that they'd always be ok.

They were Bill and Fleur. They'd get through this eventually.

Bill could have happily stayed in her arms forever, but they were interrupted by a yell they both recognised.

"Bill! Fleur! Oh," Ron drew up short when he noticed their position and glanced away pointedly as they quickly drew apart. "Sorry – it's just I thought you'd want to know – Xeno Lovegood got attacked by the journalists up by the entrance to the castle–"

"_What_?" Bill said as Fleur stared, rubbing her eyes.

"Yeah, I was with Ginny and we saw the message," Ron said, giving them a grim look. "They've brought him up to the castle. Madam Pomfrey reckons he'll live, but it's not pretty at all …"

"'as someone told Luna?" Fleur asked and Ron nodded.

"Ginny found her. She's as white as anything but of course hasn't broken down completely. Tough as a phoenix, that one."

"Why would anyone want to beat up Xeno Lovegood?" Bill asked, disgusted that such a thing had even happened.

Ron shrugged but said, "I dunno, the message just said that the journalists are a bit pissed off that Xeno gets to write about the war and they don't. They lashed out when he came to do interviews. Got pretty nasty."

Bill couldn't believe that someone could possibly do that after the past couple of days they'd just had. He tightened his arm around Fleur's waist as he said, "Don't tell me – Mum's getting paranoid and wants us to come in for lunch now?"

Ron rolled his eyes. "Told her she was being stupid, but she pulled an 'I want all my babies to be together' speech on me and I said I'd find you two."

Bill was sure that even Fleur could tell that there was a bitter undertone to his sentence. 'Pulling a speech' was a bit harsh given the circumstances, even for his sometimes-dense baby brother.

"Ron, you all right?" he asked.

He caught Fleur's eye at that and knew that she was patronising him for asking the very question he _knew_ was stupid, but this was Ron. If there was anything he'd learnt about his siblings, it was that his youngest brother sometimes just needed things to be told to him straight. Ron scowled at his question, answering, "Oh, I'm_ great_. I mean, our brother's dead and Hermione and I are royally screwed up, but other than that, everything's fine and _bloody_ dandy! I'll tell Mum you'll be there soon …" and he turned and stormed off.

Bill and Fleur exchanged looks. "I zink I will 'ave to 'ave a talk with 'ermione," Fleur said and Bill nodded.

* * *

><p><em>late afternoon <em>

Ginny knew he was there _somewhere_. She'd had a lot of the day to reflect, in amongst cleaning and fixing, and now she found herself clutching her peace offering in her hand as she searched the crowd of people in the Great Hall. She wasn't entirely sure she was ready, but she was doing it regardless. As a result of her search, she ended up stopping to talk to what felt like practically everyone gathered in the Great Hall. While under other circumstances she'd find this irritating, she now rather found it useful since more often than not, her second sentence was, "Have you seen Harry?"

"Nah, sorry Ginny," had been Dean's answer when she found him. "Haven't seen him since Luna's dad got brought in. You look like hell," he added, bluntly. "Jesus, haven't you slept at _all_ yet?"

Ginny shook her head. "Been busy," she said, glancing over the crowd. "You know, battle to fight, world to save. Didn't get much sleep last night."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Do you always have to be sarcastic?" he snorted. "I meant today – maybe that's where Harry is? I mean, Merlin knows what he was up to before he got to the castle, for all we know he could've been running off adrenaline and hasn't seen a bed in a week."

"I've checked the boys' dormitories," Ginny said, absently. "Not there."

Dean sighed. "_Ginny_," he said, taking her chin and forcing her eyes back on him. "You need to stop. Rest. You're going to run yourself into a coma if you don't watch out!"

Ginny sighed. "I'm not going to argue with you, Dean," she said. "That's what broke us up in the first place."

Dean shook his head slightly, giving Ginny an amused look. "Ginny, even I know that that was only half of it," he said. "The other half was the fact that you were still in love with Harry. Buuut, I think it's probably best if we don't get into it, don't you agree?"

She was probably supposed to be saying something along the lines of, 'Yes, of course!' but naturally, her brain betrayed her. "I … I'm not in _love_ with him!" she insisted, though her voice didn't sound so sure.

Dean snorted. "Right. Ok. I'm glad you survived this war, Ginny."

Despite herself, Ginny found herself smiling along with him. She really did still like Dean a lot. Maybe not in quite the same way as before, but she could see him becoming a good friend again. "Yeah. Me, too," she said before hugging him tightly.

"Oi," Dean said against her shoulder. "Shouldn't that be a 'you, too'?"

"Oh, fine," Ginny said, rolling her eyes and Dean laughed. "I'm glad you survived as well."

"Thanks," Dean muttered. He then pulled away with a smile on his face. "And actually … I think I may have spotted who you are looking for."

At her look, he pointed to something behind her and she turned to see Harry entering the Great Hall, carrying a bucket full of cleaning supplies and looking, well, exhausted.

Saying a quick thanks to Dean, Ginny hurried through the people until Harry spotted her. She wasn't surprised by his slightly scared expression – he'd been wary of her all day thanks to her outburst earlier that morning, despite the fact that they were kind of talking again. However this time, instead of only being able to see his dead body when she saw him, she managed to see him for what he really was – alive and with her.

It was what had decided it for her.

When she reached him, she didn't say anything, just held out her peace offering. Harry took the sandwich with a grateful, though still confused expression.

"I'm … I'm sorry I got so angry at you before," Ginny said quietly, not looking at him. "And I'm afraid I can't make the day go faster so you can go to sleep, but I _did_ manage to get to the kitchens to grab you a sandwich. And I can also give you a hug … I – I mean, if you want …"

There was a moment of silence as Harry just stared between his sandwich, her, and back again. Then, Harry grinned – a true, _brilliant_ grin – before throwing his arms around her waist, pretty much picking her up off the floor in his enthusiasm. Ginny hugged him back, surprised, but still pleased nonetheless.

"I'll _always_ want you, Ginny," Harry said.

She could've happily stayed like that (even though she knew he was taking bites out of his sandwich from over her shoulder; she couldn't really blame him, it had to have been ages since he'd last eaten), but that was when Fleur approached her. She was looking slightly worse for wear and was without Bill for a change, but Ginny was glad to see Fleur looking much more like her old self – confident and determined.

"I am sorry to interrupt," she said as Harry put her back down on the ground and they parted, though he didn't move one of his arms from around her as he continued to munch on his sandwich. "But I zink I will need your 'elp, Ginny. We need to talk to 'ermione."

"What about?" Ginny asked, frowning.

Fleur sighed. "What do you zink?"

Ginny snorted. "Ron, right?"

"Oh, thank _Merlin_!" Harry suddenly said and the two women turned to look at him. He shrugged. "What? They haven't been talking all day and it's driving me mad!"

"Zat ees what I mean!" Fleur agreed. "Bill and I saw Ron earlier and 'e was, well … 'miserable' eez ze only word to describe eet."

"Don't you worry, I'm totally on it!" Ginny said. Then, she turned to Harry, adding, "I'll … er, talk to you later, yeah?"

Harry smiled. "Yeah."

Again, they were faced with the awkwardness of not quite knowing how to bid each other goodbye. She would have quite liked to have kissed his cheek softly, but the thought sent her into such a spiralling panic mode that she figured it would be best to just hug him again. _All the time in the world_, she had to remind herself as she squeezed around his neck tightly, before leaving his side to join Fleur in waylaying Hermione, who was sitting curled up by herself on one of the house benches.

As she walked away, however, Ginny could practically feel Harry's eyes on her. Despite the day – hell, the entire _year_ – she'd had, she felt herself smile.

* * *

><p><em>early evening <em>

Ron stormed and fumed around the Great Hall, causing many people to completely avoid him. Perhaps they thought this was his way of dealing with the grief, he thought bitterly. Being angry at the world! Ha …

However, that was when he caught sight of Hermione and he stopped dead despite himself.

She was sitting on one of the house benches, talking with Ginny and Fleur. He was surprised at the addition of his sister-in-law, but supposed they had a lot more in common now, since Fred was dead and all. He _really_ wished he had it in him to just keep on walking, pretend she wasn't there and to ignore her completely, but he simply couldn't do it. He _needed_ her. He needed her hand to hold, needed her to stop him from going completely insane and he hated admitting that.

If he had his way, they would just go back to the way things were! Before a war and desperate kisses in the heat of the moment messed up everything! If he had a Galleon for every time he'd messed with Hermione, _blimey_ …

He wanted to hate her. He really did. Just think about how much easier that would be! But every time he looked at her, he felt it all over again and _Merlin_, that was bloody _annoying_.

He really couldn't justify his feelings for her. It wasn't like she was _that_ good-looking. _Who're you kidding, mate? _a sceptical voice snorted in his head. _She's bloody gorgeous, you know it! _He sighed, exasperatedly. Ok, whatever, so_ he_ thought she was kind of beautiful! Like that made a difference. C'mon, he'd lived with four other blokes for six years and all of his brothers the rest of his life, who had all decided it was necessary to evaluate this girl (since of course, being friends with Ron, there had to be _something_ wrong with her). No bloke he'd ever had to endure listening to ever said Hermione was anything more than 'all right' and he'd wanted to throttle every single one of those blokes until they were blue and choking.

She was plain old Hermione. She shouldn't matter to him so much. Merlin, why did she have to?

Finally tearing his eyes away from her, he stormed back into the Entrance Hall and found himself a good spot near the Marble Staircase for him to sulk. The stairs behind him were still in the process of being rebuilt, since everyone was still debating how on earth they were supposed to fix them, when they supported the structure of the entire castle. The best they could do for now was reinforce the side that was still standing so that people could still access the other floors if they shimmied up the left-hand banister.

He had seen Neville and Luna shimmying up about an hour ago. Luna had been by her father's side ever since that afternoon when he'd been brought to the castle, and though she didn't say anything that suggested she was worried, she had turned paler and paler as the hours went by. Afraid that she would soon crack from not hearing any better news than, "He'll live … I think …" Neville had eventually insisted that she get some sleep and had practically forced her up to the Gryffindor Common Room, since the Ravenclaw tower had partially collapsed during the battle. Neville hadn't come back down and Ron had to wonder if he'd stayed with her. He couldn't help but be surprised if he had – as amusing as Luna was, Ron had always thought her shear madness sometimes scared Neville.

He sighed. If _Neville Longbottom_ could get something right of all people, why couldn't he?

"Erm … Ron?"

He nearly fell off the rock he was sitting on. He'd barely heard that voice since Dumbledore's office. Hermione looked like she wanted to laugh at his ever-so-graceful fall, but thought better of it as he quickly clambered to his feet.

"Hermione …" was all he could think of to say.

She was looking like she couldn't wait for someone to yell her name so she could run, but she still stood her ground. Ron _tried_ to say something: 'What is it?' 'Hang on, we're talking again?' 'Merlin, I love you.' Seriously, _a__nything_. But no words came out, so he stayed silent.

Eventually, after what seemed like an age of just standing there, staring at each other, Hermione said, "Erm … come for a walk with me?"

Ron stared some more, hearing the words, but not quite believing them. "… w-walk?" he managed to get out.

Hermione nodded. "Yes … just round the castle, maybe?"

"I …" Ron shook his head at this bizarre turn of events, trying to ignore how his heart was hammering about as twice as fast as it was thirty seconds ago. "I think you'll find that walking is kinda difficult in this castle right now …"

Hermione didn't say anything, just shrugged slightly and stared at the ground, like she didn't really expect him to say yes. He almost didn't. Hell, he had no idea how any of this relationship stuff worked! It was pretty safe to say that he and Lavender had been a _train wreck_, and that didn't exactly leave him with a lot of experience, did it? Why the hell she even cared about him, he'd never know.

But that was when it hit him. She actually _cared_.

"Oh, fine then," he somehow found himself sighing. Where the hell _that_ had come from, he had no idea.

They didn't say anything for several floors. In fact, it wasn't until they were wandering down a corridor with a very significant burn mark when one of them finally said anything.

"Is that …?" Ron started, staring at the black, door-shaped burn on the wall opposite the now badly ripped tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy.

"The Room of Requirement," Hermione confirmed, sadly. "I thought that might happen …"

"What, does it not work _at all_ anymore?"

Hermione frowned. "I don't know …" she said. "Crabbe didn't really know what he was doing … it's possible that because he didn't have enough strength behind it, it only affected that one room …"

Hermione suddenly closed her eyes and began pacing back and forth. Ron knew what she was doing instantly and stepped back, hoping that she would be successful. On her third pace, a very dented, very black and very burnt door struggled into existence.

Exchanging looks, Hermione strode to the door and attempted to pull it open. It crumbled slightly before snapping in half, causing Hermione to jump and give them a spectacular view of what once was the Room of Requirement.

"What room is that meant to be?" Ron asked her, peering in at the twisted mess.

"I asked for the Room of Hidden Things," Hermione said. "It's a bit obvious that _that_ room is gone, but I wonder about the others …"

She shut the half-a-door the best she could before beginning to pace again. Again, after her third trip, another door appeared, though this one looked normal and un-burnt. Ron found himself holding his breath as Hermione opened the door and they saw beyond the room that they had once used to host DA meetings, looking perfectly fine.

"So it's just the Room of Hidden Things then …?" Ron confirmed.

"I think so," Hermione said, looking at the room fondly. "I was hoping that Crabbe would have been inexperienced enough to not have enough power behind the Fiendfyre."

"Why'd you make this particular room appear?" Ron found himself asking. Hermione turned to glance at him, her cheeks suddenly red.

"First one I thought of," she muttered, though Ron had a shrewd feeling that she was lying. "We had some good times in here …"

"Yeah, I distinctly remember you accidentally hitting me with _d__efodio_ when Neville bumped into you. Gouged a bloody hole in my leg! That was an interesting one trying to explain to Madam Pomfrey …"

Hermione actually smiled at that as she closed the door. "I had to practically carry you," she said. "I swear you could've walked if you hadn't been so busy whining."

"That bloody hurt!"

"Madam Pomfrey gave you your flesh back in the end."

"Yeah, but I don't think she quite bought, 'I scraped it on the corner of the table' considering _d__efodio_ is a spell we weren't supposed to learn until sixth-year. Although," Ron remembered that day back after DA practice and Madam Pomfrey's sharp gaze. "She seemed to believe it a bit more when we mentioned Neville's name."

"Scraping it on a table was all I could think of!"

"Yeah, doesn't exactly work when the leg of the bloke you're talking about is about a foot higher than a normal person's …"

His half-hearted snigger along with the statement sort of trailed out as apparently, neither of them could really think of anything else to say. Hermione certainly seemed to try, but her face had gone pink and she turned away, kicking at a chunk of brick with her foot and leaning against the wall next to the tapestry.

"So … I guess we're never talking about it, then?" he asked, weakly.

Hermione gave him a look, folding her arms across her chest. "Ron …"

"Hey! I'm just sayin', 'cause let's face it, I'm emotionally stunted to begin with, so maybe you're right and it's best that we just never mention it again. Actually, who am I kidding, of course you're right! You're Hermione, you're always right! Ah, bollocks–" He winced. "I'm just gonna … go, then. Yeah."

"Ron!" Hermione darted forward then and though she was still nowhere near him, he ground to a halt regardless. "Would you stop being an idiot for once?"

"Oh, that's nice," he grumbled.

"Look, I only meant–"

"I know what you _meant_, ok?" he said, roughly. "I'm not cut out for this, we both know that. It's why you've been ignoring me all day, right?"

"You're the one ignoring _me_!" Hermione cried.

"What? Hermione!" Ron could hardly believe this; they really were useless, weren't they? "Of all bloody days – you've got no idea how much I've _needed_ you today, and I'm not idiotic enough to pretend that's not true."

"I …" Hermione's eyes were shining now, as she tugged helplessly at the hem of her still-blood-stained jumper. Great. Now he'd gone and made her cry, just perfect!

"I'm sorry," she said in a small voice.

"Whatever. It's fine."

He sort of expected her to cut in with, 'Of course it isn't, you numpty! I love you!' (or maybe he hoped) but she stayed silent.

"So … what?" he said, angrily. "You're just never going to speak to me again, is _that _the plan?"

Hermione defiantly folded her arms again. "Well, obviously I was going to _have_ to say something at some point," she said. "Though I was hoping I'd be able to put off that particular conversation for at least a few days …"

Ron didn't know what to say to that, so they remained in a stony silence for several moments, during which Hermione scuffed the floor with a dirty shoe and Ron basically had no idea what was happening anymore. But, of course, he found himself speaking again. Why, he didn't know – perhaps he just had a mental talent for causing himself pain?

"So are we having that conversation or what?"

Hermione glanced up at him, an odd expression on her face. "Look, Ron, I didn't mean to do it, ok?" she said. "It sort of just _happened_–"

Ron snorted, interrupting her. "For god's sake, I don't bloody care if you didn't _mean_ for it to happen! I was just ecstatic that it did! Oh, don't look at me like that," he added at the pure astonishment now on her face. "I think we both know by this point how much you mean to me. I'm not exactly subtle. I don't think you really get that, how much I actually rely on you, especially today! I _need_ you, Hermione, I seriously need you to keep me from falling apart and … _Merlin_, we're a mess!"

"I – well–" Again, Ron appeared to have rendered Hermione to stammering. "–I didn't know!"

Ron almost laughed. "That much was fairly obvious. I thought the entire bloody castle must have known at some point! I know Harry figured it out. I've had him harping on at me all day, trying to get me to talk to you, because he was sick of seeing us fighting like we were in third-year again."

"You think you were the only one to receive an intervention?" Hermione said in retaliation. "I got Fleur and Ginny ambushing me before, just so they could give me an earful about how I was being stupid and should come sort things out with you! I'm starting to regret following their advice now!"

"Right, so _that's_ the only reason you asked me on this pleasant stroll around the castle."

"For god's sake, ron! _S__ure_, that's the only reason!" Hermione yelled. "Never mind the fact that you're my best friend and I missed you! Of _course_ I wanted to stay with you today, in fact if I'd gotten my way, I never would have left your side! But every time you looked at me, your ears would go bright red and I couldn't think of anything to say, so I did what I thought was logical and decided to let the situation calm down somewhat before addressing it!"

Ron was partly in shock from hearing that, but he still managed to yell back, "Right, and look how well _that_ turned out! 'Being logical'? That's the stupidest excuse I've ever heard!"

"Well, I'm sorry, but I've _never_ been good with this sort of thing!" Hermione yelled.

"Don't I bloody know it! You _were_ the one who sent a flock of bloody _canaries_ at me!"

"Oh, you did NOT just throw that back out–!"

Hermione was cut off in mid-sentence. Only Ron saw the unstable stab of rock from the corridor's ceiling and only he noticed it start to crack away right above Hermione. His heart freezing, he suddenly screamed her name before grabbing her around the waist and roughly shoving her sideways seconds before the huge, concrete slab smashed onto the floor right where she'd been standing. Hermione stared at the slab in shock, having screamed in fright when Ron had pushed her.

The echoes of the crash having faded away, the only sounds now were their heavy breathing and the slight shuffling of feet as Ron backed away from the slab, clumsily dragging Hermione with him. He glanced up and they just stared at each other. Suddenly, Ron realised that their argument really didn't seem to have any point to it any more. The war was _over_, it was more or less said that they both had feelings for each other, they shouldn't be bloody well _fighting_. Hermione apparently realised this at the exact same time, because in that instant, they had simultaneously slammed together and were now kissing desperately.

Ron gripped Hermione's waist tightly as her hands went to his face. He let no space come between them at all, his arms moving so they encircled her as she moved her lips with his. He'd imagined kissing Hermione for years, but nothing he'd ever dreamed of even _compared_ to this. It was nothing like their first kiss in the Room of Requirement; that had been full of pure elation and enthusiasm as well as astonishment, despite the war happening around them. This, however was nothing short of urgent, both determined to make sure the other was there, that they really could feel each other, that Ron could feel Hermione thread her fingers in his hair at his neck, making goose-bumps appear and that she could feel his hands instinctively tracing patterns on her lower back.

But despite the urgency, it was still bloody _exhilarating_.

After several moments, they eventually broke apart. Hermione moved away slightly, although Ron didn't allow her to get any further than an arm's reach away, since he still held onto her waist. They simply stared at each other until, despite the circumstances, they both found themselves laughing.

* * *

><p><em>mid-evening <em>

Despite everything that had happened, the food the house-elves provided for dinner was immaculate as per usual. Harry couldn't help but be slightly stunned at the shear amount of it as well.

"Thank god …" he practically inhaled his mashed potatoes while Ginny and the other Weasley's no doubt watched him with faintly disgusted looks.

"Don't forget to breathe …" Ginny muttered as Harry smothered gravy all over his plate. The table they were sat at could have belonged to any house – they honestly had no idea anymore, since the four tables had been pushed and moved around so much that now the Great Hall was barely recognisable. The bodies of their fallen had thankfully been moved before dinner started; despite how hungry he was, Harry didn't think that even he could've eaten with a dead first-year lying metres from him. The teachers table had also been pushed back to make room for the wounded.

While most had been transferred to the Hospital Wing or St. Mungo's by this time, there were still a few that Madam Pomfrey tended to, since they were too weak to move, like Xenophilius Lovegood. Luna had managed to get a few hours' sleep, though now she was back at her father's side, Neville kneeling next to her with a comforting arm around her shoulders. While Harry had always thought of Madam Pomfrey as a stern, unsympathetic woman, he found that he had to admire her. She hadn't stopped all day and while she had managed to save the lives of many people, there had been countless others who were simply beyond help and died as she worked tirelessly to heal them. Harry watched as one of the students who had been assisting her all day, a Hufflepuff fourth-year, made Madam Pomfrey stop checking a patient's temperature and forced a plate of steaming food into her hands.

Ginny hadn't noticed this, however. She was still watching Harry breathe in his food. "Seriously, when was the last time you actually ate something?" she asked. "Like, _properly_."

"Dunno …" Harry said through his mouthful of potatoes. "There was dinner at Shell Cottage, then nothing till Aberforth saved us in Hogsmeade, but I couldn't really eat then, so … day before last?"

"Remind me to never let you get this hungry again," Ginny said, shaking her head slightly.

Harry snorted at her and went back to his food … however, he was distracted by the appearance of Mrs Weasley. She had edged back into the Great Hall after having just helped moved the dead bodies into one of the side chambers off the Entrance Hall. She would've just had to have moved Fred. Her face had been blotchy from crying all day, though now she looked worse than ever. She spotted the rest of her family however, where Harry and Ginny were seated across from Charlie and Percy, both eating quietly, and next to Bill and Fleur, who were also equally silent and sat close together. Mr Weasley had taken a few hours to be with his family just before dinner and was now squeezing his wife's shoulder, his face glazed with tears, as he needed to go help the Order once more. Of course, Ron hadn't been seen for a few hours now, and George was apparently still out in the Quidditch stands, despite the numerous times one of his siblings had gone out to try and persuade him to come back in.

Harry didn't want to face Mrs Weasley; he was feeling guilty enough as it was. Eating food and sitting next to Ginny was more than he could have ever hoped for if the war had ended and not once did he really quite believe it would happen. He knew he didn't deserve this kind of luxury when so many people had been ripped apart, figuratively and literally.

Mrs Weasley had to hate him. Suddenly, his potatoes didn't seem to taste so good anymore.

Ginny gave him a questioning look as he put his fork down, but didn't say anything. Mrs Weasley paused at each of her children, stopping to smooth back Bill's hair, which was in a disarray, and to place comforting hands on both Fleur and Ginny's shoulders. However, she stopped in front of Harry, who kept his eyes on his plate.

"Thank you."

Harry glanced up, surprised. The look on Mrs Weasley's face stunned him even further as she gave him a warm smile. Then, she tugged Harry to his feet so she could hug him fiercely.

Quite bewildered, Harry hugged her back. He'd always liked hugging Mrs Weasley, anyway. It made him feel like he had a real family. He pulled away after a few moments, though, causing Mrs Weasley to look puzzled and Ginny to frown.

"Why on earth are you _thanking_ me?" Harry asked her.

Mrs Weasley placed a hand on his cheek. "For saving our world," she said, simply. "For ending this before the rest of you could be taken away from me. _Harry_," she added, as he had averted his gaze to the floor. "You _are_ a son to me. Please, don't ever forget that."

Harry simply couldn't say anything in answer. Instead, he hid his burning eyes into her shoulder as he threw his arms around her. "I won't," he muttered.

* * *

><p><em>late evening <em>

Ron and Hermione finally emerged just as dinner was ending. Harry thought that Ron's stomach might have had something to do with it, since Hermione was looking thoroughly exasperated. _But still_, he figured as he watched them enter the Great Hall, both looking slightly sheepish. _Looks like they're definitely talking again_ …

Once they had made their way over, Harry raised his eyebrows and threw a questioning look to their interlaced hands. Ron and Hermione both exchanged a look that clearly said, "No, _you_ tell him." Eventually, it was Hermione who turned to him and nodded, Ron half trying to hide his burning ears behind her.

Harry just laughed. "All I can say is _thank god_."

* * *

><p><em>late evening <em>

"He's stable enough for now," Madam Pomfrey said, rubbing her eyes warily. Luna glanced gratefully up at her as she held her father's hand. "I can move him to the Hospital Wing for tonight. He can be transferred to St. Mungo's tomorrow morning."

"He will be all right?" Luna asked and Neville squeezed her shoulders tightly.

"I'm pretty sure he will," Madam Pomfrey told her. "I doubt any of his injuries will turn serious during the night. The only problem would be if he gets an infection, but there are charms all over the Hospital Wing to pretend that."

"The quicker we move him, the better," Neville said and Madam Pomfrey nodded, before getting up and moving on to her next patient.

Luna turned to look at Neville. He himself had needed medical care, basically ignoring the large cut on his forehead that had needed sealing back together as he looked after everyone else. Luna didn't think she would ever meet someone who was quite as brave as him.

"Thank you for staying with me," she said, quietly. "You are a good friend, Neville."

"Ah, well …" Neville shrugged, though he kept his arm around her. "Someone needed to look after you."

"It's not just today," Luna insisted. "You have been a good friend to me for three years. You never laughed at me or made fun of me, though I know other students do. You always believed in me."

"Yeah …" Neville didn't look uncomfortable for a change. She often noticed that her comments made people feel funny, however this time Neville didn't appear affected. "Well, you believed in _me_ when no one else would. I didn't even believe in myself! Least I could do was return the favour."

Luna smiled. "Thank you, Neville," she said. To his surprise, she wrapped his arms around him from where they knelt on the floor next to Xenophilius, who was sleeping. Luna liked hugging Neville and she held him tightly, happily looking out over the Great Hall over his shoulder. Then, she caught sight of two people within the crowd. "Curious – are Ronald and Hermione holding hands?"

Neville practically ripped himself out of her arms to turn and see. They both stared hard as they saw Ron and Hermione speak with Harry and it was unmistakable to see that their hands were clearly locked together. They saw Seamus give them a wolf-whistle from one of the other tables and they both turned bright red.

"Don't tell me they're finally together …?" Neville said.

"Funny," Luna said, happily. "I thought they already were together."

* * *

><p><em>early night-time <em>

"Merlin's beard …" Charlie was shaking his head slightly. Every single Weasley brother (and sister) had pretty much known about how Ron felt towards Hermione. However, not one of them ever actually thought he would do something about it!

"Is that even real?" Bill asked, eyes wide as Fleur gave a small giggle.

"I zink she took our advice, Ginny," she said to her sister-in-law.

"I don't believe it!" Ginny said in answer.

"God, if Fred and George were here …" Percy muttered and suddenly, they all went silent, hastily turning back to their food.

However, Bill suddenly spoke up.

"If both Fred and George _were_ here, together," he said and the others glanced up with varying looks on their faces. Charlie was thunderous, Percy guilty and Ginny and Fleur just surprised. "What would they do? Come on!" he added when none of them spoke. "I'm serious – what would they do?"

The brothers and sisters all seemed reluctant to say anything, all still picking at their food and glancing around, warily. Then –

"They–…" Percy started, but cut himself off.

"No, go on," Bill prompted his little brother. "You know exactly what they'd be like, don't you?"

"They'd … well, they'd take the piss out of him at every chance they could get," Percy said, so quietly that the others could hardly hear him. "I dunno, probably make jabs about them being the next to get married … throw flower petals and stuff …"

"Yeah, well, you should know," Ginny pointed out.

"Yeah, I've been on the receiving end of it before," Percy said darkly, obviously remembering the time they had found out about him and Penelope Clearwater.

"And that's funny, yeah?" Bill said. Again, none of them answered, so he carried on. "C'mon, what else would they do?"

"They would ambush him," Charlie spoke up suddenly, surprising them all. "In the dead of the night, kidnap him so they could teach him the 'ways of women'. Advice all completely barmy, of course."

"Pretend to go all protective," Ginny said and they all turned to her. "They'd say they only wanted to protect their baby brother and that they'll rip Hermione's head off if she hurts him."

"Zey will pretend zat zey zink eet's disgusting," Fleur said. "But on zee inside, zey would probably be very 'appy for 'im."

"See," Bill said after there were another few long moments of silence, following these statements. "Neither of them are gone, are they? Not if we can still remember them. And George ought to know that. It's getting dark outside …"

"Want me to go get him?" Charlie asked, half standing with his wand out.

Bill stood also. "I think we _all_ need to go get him."

* * *

><p><em>early night-time <em>

George was finally forced inside by the rest of his siblings just as the sunset started turning dark blue to night time. He still wasn't talking, nor did he accept any food, but at least he wasn't by himself anymore.

Since Ron had been accosted by his siblings to get George, Harry and Hermione waited for him in the Entrance Hall. Harry was practically falling asleep standing up, head nodding off on Hermione's shoulder, while she just wiggled her fingers slightly, as if not quite believing that not too long ago, there had been another's hand attached to them.

She nudged Harry awake when the others arrived with George and Ron mouthed, "Be there soon," to them as they ushered their brother into the Great Hall. He came back to them not long afterwards, looking utterly exhausted.

"It didn't take a lot of convincing, to be honest," he said once he was standing in front of them. "We were going to _stupefy_ and drag him inside if we had to, but he was stone cold anyway, so …"

"We're all together now," Hermione said softly and both Harry and Ron noticed her use of the word 'we', not 'you'.

In that second, Harry, Ron and Hermione found themselves crushed together in a hug that Harry was sure would've knocked him flat, had he not had both their arms around him. It was moments like these where he knew that they would always be a three, no matter how close Ron and Hermione got, no matter if one of them moved away, no matter if they argued. The three of them, always _together_.

"I dunno about you guys," Harry said once they all disentangled themselves and Hermione sniffed, wiping her face with her sleeve. "But I'm completely shattered."

"I don't think we've slept in nearly 24 hours …" Hermione agreed.

By an unspoken agreement, they made their way to the Gryffindor Tower, where they found the Fat Lady's portrait empty and open, the common room completely torn apart. Harry felt a pang for what used to be his home, but he could barely think straight, let alone fix anything. He found the nearest armchair that was still in one piece and collapsed into it, falling asleep almost immediately.

Ron and Hermione both glanced at each other awkwardly, but they found a sofa that had survived the battle relatively unscathed. Soon, they were curled up together, sound asleep as well. Awkwardness could wait until tomorrow.

That was how they were found, a couple of hours later as students and parents and siblings began trekking up to the dormitories for sleep. There would be some people who wouldn't sleep at all that night as well, such as Madam Pomfrey, working tirelessly with her team of helpers, and those who sat up waiting and fearing for their loved one's lives. Luna still sat with her father silently in the Hospital Wing, Neville sleeping comfortably in the chair next to her.

Most of the Weasley siblings found their way to the Gryffindor common room, along with a lot of other people, never mind their house. With the Ravenclaw Tower destroyed and no one from Slytherin left to open their common room, Gryffindor and Hufflepuff were the only places left to sleep. However, one Weasley brother stayed behind downstairs, in the room full of dead bodies. George stayed with his twin, stroking his hair as his head lay in his lap, just talking to him. He wasn't dead. Of course he wasn't dead.

Ginny had stopped as she passed Harry's chair. He was completely dead to the world and not even a brush of her fingers through his hair made him stir. She just smiled and conjured a blanket for him before finding a chair of her own, not wanting to let him out of her sight.

While he would still have nightmares over the next couple of weeks, it was the first night in seven years where Harry hadn't had to worry about Voldemort. He finally got everything he wanted – a sandwich, a hug from Ginny and ten hours sleep.

That was enough for now. There was all the time in the world.

* * *

><p><em>dawn <em>

As the night turned to dawn again, the sun shined down on the castle. No one standing in the grounds, looking up at it, would guess that there had been any repairing done at all. The castle was still in ruins, the grounds ripped up and destroyed, and it didn't look like it would _ever_ be properly put back together again.

But they would be wrong.

-Fin.

* * *

><p>AN: Second part. Again, I apologise for how ridiculously long this was! A lot of the moments between Ron and Hermione (especially their second kiss) as you can probably tell were inspired by my watching the last movie.

Thank you so much for your reviews, they've been great! I hope you all liked it and I would love to know what you think.

Until next time –

– Moon. : D


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